


Professor Sollux

by SteamPoweredDork



Series: Useless Dribbles [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Omorashi, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and he's a pretentious douchebag, and i love him, my OC's name is Pincel Kraven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5159471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteamPoweredDork/pseuds/SteamPoweredDork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alright kiddies, this stuff is pretty terrible, in my opinion, but it's my first time writing this sort of thing, don't hurt me too much.</p><p>Comments are greatly appreciated, as they aid in my writing process.  Please be as brutally honest as you can.</p><p>Other than that, what are yah waitin for?!  Get to readin already!  :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Professor Sollux

**Author's Note:**

> Alright kiddies, this stuff is pretty terrible, in my opinion, but it's my first time writing this sort of thing, don't hurt me too much.
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated, as they aid in my writing process. Please be as brutally honest as you can.
> 
> Other than that, what are yah waitin for?! Get to readin already! :)

You were one of the best professors in the science department, a high-level psionic, and not too shabby when it came to finding your way around a computer.  You were not, however, above natural bodily functions.

It was coming to the end of your last class of the day.  You were in the middle of a lecture on thermodynamics when that fourth cup of coffee around lunch was starting to become a regret.  It didn’t help that you had missed that part of your morning routine thanks to a late start.  You checked the clock as you continued your lesson; another half hour or so, not too long.  You could hold it.

Or so you thought.

It couldn’t have been another ten minutes before your usual slow walk had become more of a hurried pacing.  You could feel your bulge gradually slipping from its sheath to compensate for the fullness of your bladder.  Just perfect.  Not only do you have to hide the fact that you’re about to piss yourself, but now you have to hide your own arousal, too.

You give the students some bookwork to focus their attention away from you, but that can only work for so long.  Thinking back, you realize you should have just made something up about making copies of an assignment and excused yourself from the room.  You could still do so, of course, but your own stubbornness is a rather strong force to contend with.  That, and you’re enjoying this more than you’d like to admit...

“Um, sir?” questioned a young teal blood, “Are you alright?”

Crap, they know something’s up.  Of course they do, you’re practically running back and forth at the front of the room. You make your best effort to stand still as you turn to face them, hands shoved deep in your pockets to hide the growing tent in your pants.

“I- I’m fine.  Return to your assignment,” you respond tersely, if a bit wavering.  That’s perfectly reassuring, good job Captor.  They’re sure to believe that one.

“Yes, sir,” they say as they return to the reading, a look of skepticism on their face.  Not that you blame them.  You wouldn’t have believed yourself, either.

Another few minutes pass before the urgency spikes, and you find yourself nearly gasping aloud, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to stop a small leak from escaping.  You can feel a few drops defy your efforts, but you quickly regain control.  Emergency averted, but for how much longer?

It would seem, not very long at all, as a mere five minutes later, you find yourself squirming and leaning on the edge of your desk, holding the worst of it back as small drops escape at regular intervals.  A hand covers your face, attempting to muffle the gasps of pleasure that are being ripped from your throat.  The other hand is preoccupied with hiding your now fully unsheathed bulge, though it’s doing more stroking than hiding, much to your chagrin.

“Sir?” the teal blood speaks up again.  That small moment of distraction is all your body needs to fight for the lead again.

A loud gasp escapes as a rather large spurt flows down your inner thigh, creating an obvious stain.  Though you manage to cut it off, you certainly have not been saved from further embarrassment.  You can feel the eyes of your students on you, silently questioning.  You wish they would turn away, ignore their childish curiosity for once in their lives, but to no avail.  You’re mere seconds away from pissing yourself, and they aren’t going to miss that for the world.

You feel a twinge in your gut as another spurt escapes, adding to the growing wet patch.  God, that felt so good…  Your knees almost give out, but you lean harder against the desk, straightening back up as best you can.  There, that should help relieve a bit of it, allow you to wait until class is over.  You outright moaned that time, no way to deny it.  You’ve resorted to practically jerking yourself off to keep from losing control, so it’s not surprising.

Of course, now would be the time that you feel a slight tickle in the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit n-” you manage, before an explosive sneeze rips its way out, causing you to lose what little control you had on your desperation.  You can feel the urine running down your leg with a rather loud hiss, and your knees give out at the overwhelming sense of relief.  As you collapse to the floor, your body betrays you in yet another manner as your orgasm ripples its way up and down your spine.  You throw your head back, groaning at just how good this feels.

It doesn’t take long before the flow tapers off enough for you to stop it.  No matter how good it would feel to let all of it go, you have a reputation to try and scrape back together.  You push off the floor, struggling to stand.  You straighten as well as you can with this feeling of shame hanging onto your shoulders, and try to piece together some form of explanation, when a small clearing of a throat is heard.

It’s the same teal blood as before, the little chatterbox.  You brace for some sort of accusing remark, when they simply give you a knowing glance.  They begin to pack up their things and leave the room, and the others follow suit as they come out of the shock at what they had just witnessed.

You’re left standing in a confused silence for a few minutes before you shiver, bringing your attention back to the situation at hand.  That’s right, you need to get home and change out of these trousers, and a shower wouldn’t do you any harm, either.  No good standing there gaping at the ceiling until one of your coworkers sees you like this.  There’d be no living it down after that.  You grab your jacket from the back of the chair at your desk, and make your way home without any further, ahem, incident.

****  
  



End file.
